Snowed last night! Just a couple of inches, so it’s just enough for the kids to enjoy but not enough to be more than an inconvenience to grown-ups. Our next-door grandson had a friend stay overnight and they and our SIL are out conquering the hill by the front door. Grandson is making whoops like Daffy Duck on crack. 😀 Snapped this picsh out the back door. Snow on the clothesline, woodsmoke across the tree.

STAND BACK–I FEEL A SONG COMING ON!

Snow on the clothesline, woodsmoke across the tree.
Snow on the clothesline, woodsmoke across the tree.
If your lovin’ man should leave you, don’t come blamin’ me.

We’re warm in the winter even if it snows.
I said we’re warm in the winter even if it snows.
Coal and oil stay gone forever, but wood just grows and grows.

Okay, that’s the Treehugger’s Happy Blues there.

We had baked potatoes for supper last night. LISTEN: Get you some Russets. Clean ’em real good and poke some holes in ’em for the steam to get out so they don’t ‘splode all over the insides of your oven. Put ’em in just like that, or rub ’em with butter and then season the outside however you like it and wrap each one in foil. We like ’em plain. Put ’em in a cold oven and turn it on to 450F and leave ’em alone for about an hour. Put one on your plate, cut a deep cross in it (the potato, not your plate), then pinch the ends of the potato so the insides floof out of the cross-cut. OH, MAN!

I didn’t take a picsh, because it just looked like–you know–a potato, but it tasted like heaven. Charlie takes his with a little butter and salt. I take mine with butter, sour cream, salt, pepper, sharp cheddar and sometimes bacon. LOADED. The potato, not me.

MA

writing prompt: Have a character who hates snow get hit by a snowball. Intentionally or accidentally? How does he/she respond? To what does the hit and/or the response lead?

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